BioShock
by Kirbilius Clausius
Summary: April, 1960. The newly adopted S.H.I.E.L.D. air craft carrier has taken aboard a bathysphere that, despite its lack of locomotion, first appeared in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. The fledgling organization that has promised to use the world's best and brightest to save the rest of humanity from what lies beyond is about to face their first true test of mettle under super-fire.


Director Carter walked sure and steady down the corridor with nary a touch of the bulkhead. The crew of the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division a.k.a. "Man, we need a shorter name" carrier would normally be surprised by someone who spent so little of her time aboard being able to go from shore legs to sea legs so easily. But Director Carter was just one of those people you met in the Division that so regularly surprised with some before unknown hidden talent that it was a little less startling.

"Welcome aboard, Peg...Director Carter.", Agent 8th Class Dugan greeted.

"Thank you Dum Dum.", Peggy replied amiably. "You mind telling me what dragged me out to international waters?"

"Well, it's not petty revenge if that's what you're thinkin'.", Dugan stated. "Why should I mind being put in charge of the Division's headquarters instead of a posh municipal office before the Triskellion's diplomatic immunity is approved?"

"You know as well as I that we have to keep these interests global.", Director Carter explained. Again. "That's why Sousa's heading up the St. Petersberg office. And Yellow Widow, not matter how many times she's tried to drug and or kill me over the years, is heading up L.A. The world can't see this as a Western or Eastern organization. No matter if you want to draw the line between Christendom and the Dragon or communism and capitalism. Until the final negotiation over where the Triskellion will be that ensures its guidance by some sort of U.N body instead of a single nation, I need the best man I can get in charge of the one international headquarters I can get."

"Oh, I get why you put ole Dum Dum underneath half of Pearl Harbor and on top of Hiroshima.", Dugan agreed. "Just don't go thinking naming it a nuclear powered aircraft is going to let it slip by.

"But what you said was to call you in if something too big to go over airwaves, even encrypted ones, came up. So that's what I did."

"Well, I am here.", the Director reminded.

"Eighteen hours ago, we found a bathysphere on scanners.", Dugan began.

"A bathysphere? This far out into the Atlantic? We aren't even over a continental shelf.", Carter objected. "Don't you mean some type of submersible?"

Dum Dum shook his head. "Nope. Ole Zola looked it over. Said it had its own power system, a series of batteries tied up to some heavy duty magnets. So heavy duty, that if they were close enough to some other current, they could be used as an engine for the damn thing.

"Any way, when we drag it up, guess what's in it. A fistful of little girls and the most super powered guy we've found so far."

"We've found a lot of very strange things over the years.", Carter reminded.

"Well, you'll see. Zola's down there with him now."

Now Carter actually stopped. "Zola wasn't brought on due to his medical expertise. His work is in high energy concentrators and only in his time out of prison and with us has he started approaching Oppenheimer in his use of calculating machines. Why is he conducting an initial medical exam?"

Dugan held up his hands. "Oh, he wasn't. Medical was down there and brought him in to consult because of his energy background."

"So our new friend can what exactly?", Carter inquired. "Concentrate heat? Boil his own sweat?"

"Shoot lightning."

"Oh poppycock.", she dismissed.

The man held out the medical report he received. "Says it right here, in big fancy words. Teleelectric. Telepyretic. Telecryotic."

"If he can control the temperature around himself, isn't that the same power?", Carter asked.

"The docs say its just like the guy tells. Different powers for ice and hot. Good control to. They say he can hit an eye chart up to 20/40.

"And that's only the up front weird."

Director Carter steeled herself. "Well, we're here. I suppose I'll find out the rest firsthand."

Only before the pair could enter the now filled barracks, Dr. Zola came stumbling out. Upon spotting the two he steadied himself. "Heil S.H.I.E.L.D.!", the scientist exclaimed.

"What have I told you about 'heil'-ing and abbreviating our organizations designation, Dr. Zola?", the Director chastised.

"Of course, Fraulein Carter.", Dr. Zola nodded. "You, um, must be here to inquire about the enhanced that was fished out of the water like so much sturgeon, yes?"

"And I understand you weaseled your way into the examination.", Carter replied.

"Oh no, on my honor, Fraulein.", Dr. Zola protested. "I was only brought in to use my instruments to record his joule output. And as a scientist, how could I resist? It is the things that are the farthest from our knowledge that intrigue the most. While my colleagues in medical were most intrigued by the changes in voltage along the gentlman's skin; I was most amazed at the lack of injuries among those that came from the craft."

Dugan then spoke up. "I thought you were the one that looked over the sphere when it came on board. You said it was tip top."

"Of course, Herr Dugan.", the man said while resituating his glasses. "But I am not just saying from whatever travels were made in the craft. I am telling you that there appear to be no injuries at all amongst any of them. Either they have some way of repairing damage in the manner that a morula...or pre-embriotic baby in the womb...regenerates generic cells but on a macroscopic level or the man and his little ones have never suffered a wound of any sort. Even the ones one would expect, like losing one's teeth during child hood or the accidental breaking of a toe bone that goes ignored. Not even calluses upon the feet."

Carter and Dugan looked at each other. "Alright. Dr. Zola, return to your lab. Dum Dum, let's see what all this is about."


End file.
